Chapter 1
A Mother’s Sacrifice
A hooded figure raced through the
streets, feet splashing like giant water balloons in ankle-deep puddles. In her arms was a damp bundle, only
identifiable as a baby from the small cry it gave. She ducked beneath a store’s awning to
protect her child from the onslaught of rain.
The baby cried softly.
“Shh,” she urged, stroking the
child’s head. She made a fearful glance
to her left, brushing her soaked, sandy blonde hair away from her eyes. “They might hear us.”
How anyone could hear over the
pounding rain and constant thunder, one can only guess, but this woman quaked
in terror. A flash of lightning illuminated
her surroundings. For a moment, she
thought she saw a shadowy figure silhouetted against the sky.
Though she tried to assure herself
no one else would be out in this weather, the thought felt far from
reassuring. After all, the only people
who’d brave these conditions were those searching for her and her child. Little did it comfort her that they were as
unaccustomed to the weather as she.
The woman pulled the blanket away
from her baby’s head and looked into his deep blue eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of their
parting, but as long as her child remained with her, he would never be free; he
would never be safe.
A clap of thunder startled her from
her thoughts. She thought she saw
somebody again out of the corner of her eye.
It was no longer safe outside.
For the briefest of moments, she stared longingly at the store in front
of which she had taken cover—before remembering what she could do.
The woman cradled her child in one
arm and pressed her other hand firmly against the door. The lock clicked. As she entered the building, she held up a
hand to silence the intruder alarm.
Turning the lights on would surely
announce her presence, so she closed her eyes and concentrated. The room was soon illuminated in varying shades
of green. Though she would have
preferred actual light, she could at least see.
Night vision had always been one of her strengths. A rare ability. But still one she feared her pursuers may have
also possessed.
The room turned a blinding green
with each flash of lightning. Fear
surged within her. It was only a matter
of time until they found her. With the
resources at their disposal, her pursuers could be anywhere, do anything. She felt alone, vulnerable; she stood no
chance.
Though the woman knew her death was
fast-approaching, that wasn’t what bothered her. No, it was the thought of her child, of the
life he was sure to have if they found him.
She jumped. A clock behind had chimed. She glanced at it to see it was three o’clock
in the morning. Her heart pounded in her
chest. A few hours from now, the sun
would rise; she would be visible, even more vulnerable than she already was.
Her child let out another small
cry. She caressed his head
lovingly. “Please, be quiet…please.”
But the child didn’t recognize her
words; he could only sense her anxiety—and it did little to stop his
crying. Louder and louder the child
wailed. Thunder cracked overhead. The once intermittent lightning now flashed
almost continuously, nearly blinding her.
The time for her night vision had gone.
She turned her head and gazed at
the unrelenting storm. With each flash
of lightning, she feared they’d see her.
With each boom of thunder, the baby cried more loudly. And as she stared out the window, she let out
a cry nearly as loud.
Standing beneath the awning, right
outside the window, was the figure of a man.
His eyes were staring directly at her.
Without a second thought, the woman turned and dashed through the
crowded shop. The door burst open behind
her, and the intruder alarm sounded for a few seconds before the man disabled
it.
Objects crashed to the floor as the
man hurtled toward her. She turned
around and saw his figure. Pointing her
finger toward the large grandfather clock that had just chimed, she made it
slide across the floor, right into the man’s path. It knocked him off his feet, which she hoped
would provide her the few seconds she needed to escape.
Her child cradled securely in her
arms, she rushed past shelves of countless antiques: beautiful vases, worn
flower pots, old paintings. If it came
to it, she knew she could use these to hold him off awhile.
The sound of heavy footsteps told
the woman her pursuer had regained his footing.
She wrapped her left arm tightly around her child and pointed her right
behind her. Though she had no idea what
she had sent flying, it must have hurt, judging by her pursuer’s swearing.
The woman spotted a door to the
left and whisked herself through it. She
closed the door, then held her hand over it.
The lock glowed for a moment.
Although this ability wasn’t a specialty of hers, she hoped it could
hold for at least a few seconds.
Her pursuer approached the door and
tried to push it open. It didn’t
budge. The woman knew she should take off
running, but she felt compelled to stare into the eyes of her attacker for the
first time. She recognized his dark
eyes, his reddish-brown hair. The man
was one of her husband’s top assassins, a man who never failed to get his
quarry.
She took off running. The assassin swore loudly as he threw his
body against the sealed door. She
immediately realized the room she had entered was windowless, so she enabled
her night vision. Even with the aid of
her ability, however, the room remained difficult to navigate.
The door burst open. Her attacker stumbled into the room, blind,
sending crates crashing to the floor. The
woman felt the first surge of hope in hours.
Her baby still cradled in her left arm, she dashed through the storage
room. With a flick of her right wrist,
she sent enormous crates flying in all directions.
A few moments later, she spotted
the store’s backdoor. Hastening her
pace, she broke through it. The room
behind her lit up with a momentary flash of light. Her attacker surely saw her. But she didn’t turn around to check.
Cold rain pelted the child’s face. He let out another loud cry. His mother wrapped the blankets back around
him and continued running. When she
emerged from the back alley, she found herself beneath store awnings on the
next street.
The baby’s cries soon began to die
down, for which she was thankful. She
had no idea how many people were pursuing her, if more were listening
expectantly for the sound of her child’s cries.
For all she knew, a trap awaited her.
Rain pounded on the canopy
above. Thunder cracked overhead. At least the baby’s cries would be inaudible
over the din.
She passed about ten stores, all
dark. Though breaking into another one
crossed her mind, she knew she couldn’t hide forever. With a backward glance, she could have sworn
she saw another shadow silhouetted against the lightning-crossed sky.
The woman reached the end of the
awning. She feared her child would cry
again when the rain began to drench him.
But she had no choice. Stepping
away from the awning, she rounded a corner and saw something that filled her
with hope.
To her left was a building, lights
glowing in its windows. The mother
hastened her pace. As she neared the
building, her heart leapt.
It was a police station.
This was a place to drop off her
child, a place he had a chance at safety.
Well, as long as her pursuers didn’t see her enter. Making a quick sideways glance with her night
vision, she saw nobody.
The woman opened the door and ducked
inside the police station. She
immediately spotted two officers sitting at a table on the far side of the
room. They looked up from their cups of
coffee.
One of the officers, a man of about
thirty, rose from his seat. “Are you all
right, ma’am?”
“P-please,” she stammered, “take my
child. Hide him.”
“What is going on, ma’am?” The officer’s brown eyes had taken on a look
of alarmed concern.
“P-please, take him.” She shivered uncontrollably, noticing how
cold the rain had made her. “D-don’t l-let
them take him.”
The other officer rose from his
seat. “Don’t let who take him?”
“You wouldn’t understand!” she
cried, shuddering, glancing at the windows behind her. “I don’t have much time. Take him.
Hide him.”
“Ma’am, just calm down,” said the
first officer. “Take a deep breath and
explain what’s going on.”
“They’re going to kill me. They’re going to take my baby, my dear Martin.”
“Who is going to kill you, ma’am?”
“You wouldn’t understand!”
The second officer stepped toward
her. “Please, sit down. If somebody’s after you, we can protect you.”
She looked sadly into his
eyes. “No, I’m afraid you can’t. No one and nothing can protect you after he
decides to kill you.”
“Ma’am, you’re making no sense,”
said the first officer. “Who is trying
to kill you? We are the police. We can help.”
“No one can help.” She held out the child and handed him to the
officer. He didn’t want to take hold of
the baby at first, but, when she pulled her arms away, he had no choice. The officer nearly dropped the baby. The woman had already burst through the door
by the time he regained a firm grip.
“Ma’am!” he called out. “Come back!
Your baby!”
That was the last thing she heard
before the door closed. She raced
through the downpour, which had grown more intense since she had entered the
police station. Thoughts of the dry
comforts of home tormented her mind. But
those comforts, she knew, came with a price.
A life of imprisonment and servitude.
Her world was in the grip of dark times, and her husband was behind it.
She had been taken in by him at
first. The allure of power, she knew. Evil though he was, her husband was a
powerful man, more powerful perhaps than any who had lived before him. Too late she had realized that, with such
power, came evil, the deepest depths of darkness.
She couldn’t allow her child to
grow up in that world and follow in his father’s footsteps as his brothers had
before him, the brothers who were not her children. Cruel and despicable, they were, just like
their father. She swore her son would
never know evil, would never turn to the dark.
The woman tried to hold back the
tears as she thought of her cold, wet son in the arms of the young
officer. But there were more pressing
matters at that moment. It was only a
matter of time until her pursuers found her again.
She ducked behind the police
station, where she saw a few patrol cars sitting unattended. Though she hesitated for a moment, the woman
knew what she must do. She pressed her
hand against the door. The lock clicked. After situating herself in the seat, she
placed her hand on the steering wheel.
The engine burst to life. She put the car in drive and maneuvered it
onto the street. In the surrounding din,
the officers wouldn’t notice the missing car until the morning.
The woman made her way to the main
thoroughfare through town, the car’s windshield wipers straining against the
onslaught of rain. She checked the
rearview mirror every few seconds as if she had a nervous tick. Any moment, she expected to see the lights of
a car behind her. But the small town
seemed empty apart from her and her stolen police vehicle.
The woman pressed the gas pedal
nearly to the floor as she far exceeded the speed limit. Though the road was empty, she longed to be
out of town quickly, more for her child’s safety than for her own. The farther she was from here when they found
her, the less chance they stood of finding her son.
She made her way to the highway and
started to drive even faster to the south.
Where she was going, she had no idea.
Anywhere was better than staying in town and exposing her son to the greedy
hands of evil. It was better that he’d
never know of the world where he was born.
Better that he’d never know his father.
Despite her fatigue, she drove
through the next day, stopping only occasionally for food. Never did she rest for more than a few
minutes time. The longer she stayed in
one place, the better a chance they had of tracking her. People like her didn’t belong in the “normal”
world. And though she didn’t understand
how, she knew her pursuers could track her.
She had decided to abandon the
police car. It would be too
conspicuous. At a nearly deserted rest
stop, she had taken the opportunity and grabbed another car. She felt bad for the people she had stranded,
but her need was greater than theirs at the moment.
The woman made frequent detours to
throw off her pursuers. Sometimes, she
turned onto another highway, sometimes onto a deserted country road. All the while, she felt cornered. She could have sworn cars were deliberately
following her, stalking her every move.
That night, she stayed at a motel
in the middle of nowhere. From what she
had read on highway signs, she knew she had stopped in a place called Arkansas
and that she had come from a place called Missouri. Like the rest of the “normal” world, though,
it was completely unfamiliar to her.
And that was her brightest hope,
that her pursuers were as disoriented as she.
After staying awake for almost two
days, sleep should have been easy to come by.
Her mind, however, raced with fear.
Though she had drawn the curtains across the window, she compulsively
peered through them every minute or two.
The motel’s parking lot remained still, empty, and silent.
Her eyelids drooped, and she
collapsed into bed. Sleep, though,
proved impossible. She couldn’t stop
worrying about her fate, about her son’s fate.
Was he, even now, back in the clutches of her evil husband? Did the police hide him as she had instructed
them?
A car door slammed outside. She jerked upright in bed. As was her custom when she heard any sound,
she peered through the curtains. When
she did, she saw the very sight she had feared.
A man was slowly making his way
right toward her door. His figure was
shadowy and indistinct, but his gait had a purpose to it, something she had
come to recognize in her husband’s best assassins.
With a jolt of terror, the woman
realized there was only one exit, the one outside which the assassin
stood. Her only chance was to
fight. But what chance did she stand
against a trained assassin, a man who had mastered abilities she’d never
attempt in her wildest dreams?
The woman pressed her hand against
the door, sealing it. It would hold for
at least a few seconds. No time to grab
anything, she dashed to the other side of the room.
As much as she regretted the laws
she had already broken and the damage she had already done, it was time for a
little more. She pointed her right hand
toward the wall opposite the door. With
a sound like a gunshot, a large hole appeared in the wall.
The residents of the adjoining room
screamed and held their small children close as she sprinted past them. Seconds behind her was the assassin. The woman flung the door open and raced into
the dark night. Cars and trucks rumbled
past on a nearby highway.
She scrambled toward the highway,
stumbling up a steep embankment. Her
attacker was gaining on her. A whoosh of
air flew over her head, accompanied by a flash of white light. Judging by its color, the man had only tried
to knock her unconscious.
This filled her with a newfound
sense of hope. If they weren’t trying to
kill her, they hadn’t found her son.
They needed her to find him.
That, however, was one thing she’d never allow.
She finally climbed to the edge of
the highway. Vehicles hurtled past at
seventy-plus miles per hour, their drivers unaware of her predicament, probably
making their way back to their families and their peaceful lives. The kind of life she hoped her son would
have.
The assassin had caught up to
her. This was the moment. There would be no more running, no more
evading.
“You’ve given us quite a challenge,
Amy. Never would have expected it from
you.”
“I-I’ll take that as a compliment,
James.” She attempted the most powerful
pose she could muster, though her legs shook uncontrollably. All this time, she had known her death was
fast-approaching, but, now that it was at hand, it felt completely different. Her heart felt so strong, so powerful. To think it would soon stop…
The man eyed her intently, a
piercing look behind his dark eyes. “Where
is your son? Where is Martin?”
“Somewhere you’ll never find him!”
“We shall see about that.” The man stepped forward and pressed his hand
to her forehead. She had expected
immeasurable pain, but instead it was her mind he assaulted. Images flashed before her eyes: Martin as a
newborn, her smuggling him through the portal to the “normal world,” the shop
where she had hidden…
With immense effort, she pulled his
hand away from her forehead. She
wouldn’t give up his location. Not after
all this. She pushed the assassin. He tumbled down the hill, caught by surprise.
While he clambered back to his
feet, she stepped to the highway guardrail and hoisted herself over it. She stood resolutely on the shoulder of the
highway. A pair of headlights approached
from a distance.
Motion out of the corner of her eye
caught her attention. The assassin had
climbed back to the top of the hill.
“Get back here now!” he shouted as
he vaulted the guardrail.
The next few seconds passed as if
in slow motion. She turned and stepped
into the flow of traffic. The man inched
toward her. She caught the look of
horror in his eyes. A dazzlingly bright
light appeared in her peripheral vision.
She turned and faced the
light. A truck horn sounded. The lights grew brighter and brighter until
nothing else filled her vision. Nothing
else mattered. Her heart pounded its
last few beats. She faced imminent death
with the knowledge that her son Martin was safe.
“NOOOOOOO!!!”
The scream of her would-be murderer
was the last sound she ever heard.
